


Red as Blood and Gold as Dream

by Megeara



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anaesthetics doing their work, But it's okay, Community: avengerkink, Drabble, Gen, Hurt Tony, Kink Meme, Prompt Fill, Tony Stark has no self-preservation, Untreated injuries leading to fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5313824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megeara/pseuds/Megeara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short fill on an old prompt.<br/>"I just want to see something where Tony is badly damaged during a fight but doesn't tell anyone. The suit hides any evidence and he doesn't want to seem weak in front of the team so he heads to debriefing like normal.<br/>Until half way through he passes out from blood loss; except the team thinks he just fell asleep. Either they feel bad and let him sleep or roll their eyes and get pissed is up to filler. What I want is them trying to wake him up and realize something is wrong."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red as Blood and Gold as Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write something short and sweet and hurt and Tony. So there ya go, folks. Hope you'll enjoy it.

Clint fiddles with an arrow’s shaft, bored out of his mind. The conference room buzzes from the conversation of Steve and Fury. Clint looks at his teammates, who are exhausted after the fight. Thor is draped in a small chair. He looks uncomfortable as he absentmindedly draws circled on Mjölnir’s surface. Bruce looks like he is one the verge of keening over after his dehulking. Natasha tries to show composure, but terribly fails, as she touches her temple, where there is a long disinfected cut, to sooth the pain. Tony is resting on one of his elbow, head buried in his hand, eyes closed. Steve looks ragged as well, but as he is the leader, he has the responsibility to report back. His tone is quiet, but steady and confident. He is still in the Captain America mindset.

Clint drops his head back, putting the arrow down on his lap. First thing he goes home is to submerge in a tub of hot water, with pink bubbles and a rubber duck. Then food. He is not sure, if he can keep down any significant amount of nutrition, but he can damn well try. He is famished.

He opens one eye and rolls his head to the right as Tony’s head collide with the desk in a muffled thud. Steve sighs deeply and reaches out to poke the genius awake, but Natasha slaps his hand away, her eyes warning the Captain to stay away. Fury surprisingly doesn’t say a word, and motions Steve to continue.

Clint stares at thin air for a minute. He wonders how many hours did Tony sleep, if he is the first one to give in to sleep. He wouldn’t be surprised if he found out that the billionaire hadn’t slept for two days. But even so, Tony always looks energetic, blubbering, snarking and prodding others like his life depended on it. Even Bruce is awake, for crying out loud, and he usually is so drained after missions, that he can’t even sit up straight.

Fury grunts as he takes in the Avengers’ condition, and sighs. He, too, is drawing the conclusion, that if he wants a debriefing in which everybody participates, he’ll have to wait till the team gets their beauty sleep. He dismisses them.

Thor offers a hand to Bruce, which he eagerly accepts. Natasha and Clint wait at the door, watching as Steve nudges Stark. He frowns when the man doesn’t wake, and shakes him harder by the shoulder.

Clint’s brows run together. “Cap? Is there a problem?”

Steve looks alarmed. “There is something wrong. Tony? Hey, man, come on.”

Thor and Bruce look back. The physicist’s eyes go wide, as his nostrils flare wide, catching the scent of iron. He lets go of Thor, and turns back on his heels, more awake than before.

“You idiot,” he mutters under his breath loud enough that everyone hears.

“Doctor…?” Natasha starts, but Bruce cuts her short.

“Help me with this. Thor, Steve, we have to get him out of the armour, and move him to the infirmary as soon as possible. Natasha, call for paramedics. Hurry!”

Clint stands in the doorway, feeling useless, as the three heavy hitters lay Tony on the ground and press the armour’s manual release plates. Tony’s face looks drained from colours. His skin is chalk-white, the bags under his eyes are more defined.

Suddenly Steve of all people lets out a string of cuss words. When he raises his hand from Tony’s torso, his fingers are covered in blood.

***

Tony slowly comes to himself. The blurred, white world around him is filled with the smell of antiseptics and the constant beeping of a cardiac monitor. Tony sighed internally and giggled, because he was doped up to the gills, and wasn’t this just hilarious?

“I’m pleased that at least someone finds the situation funny, Stark,” the voice came from somewhere left to him, along with the sound of a door shutting after someone. Tony lolled his head at the direction, and oh, look, a Hawk.

“Hey,” he rasps and snickers. Laughing feels like coughing up bubbles, all happy and colourful.

“Hey you, too. When did you want to tell us, that you had yourself pierced with something really sharp, hm?”

Tony closes his eyes, because there are too many words to put together, and it’s easier to just let them wash over him. Oh, he is tired. Why didn’t someone tell him? He can go back to sleep, into the happy haze.

There is a hand patting his face, and he has the feeling that he should hush it away, but that takes up energy he doesn’t have left.

“Come on, Tones, Bruce is there, he’ll check you over, but you should be awake. Open you pretty eyes… That’s it, knew you could do it.”

Tony giggles, and thinks that yeah, he is pretty pretty.

There comes a low chuckle and paper rustling, and yay, Bruce joins the party. It would be great if he could just see him a little clearer. “I think we can take you off the good stuff, Princess.”

Princess? He is sure, he is a man. Maybe he should check, just in case…?

There are shadowy hands on him, holding his hands gently. “Your brain to mouth filter is shit, Stark.”

Oh, joy, Natasha.

“We are all here. We’ll have a serious talk later, but now let Bruce check your wound.”

The blanket is pulled down to his legs, and Tony flinches, because ouch. “Seems good, you’ll live. Your vitals are stable, and we recovered the blood loss. A long sleep and avoiding heavy work should do the trick.”

“This means no workshop for a week,” Steve’s voice comes from the right, and Tony turns his head to glare at the blond and blue blob he sees.

He winces at Thor’s booming voice. “Do not fret, Friend Tony, we shall entertain you while you recover.”

“And we will, after we kill you for almost killing yourself,” reassures him Natasha.

“She means interrogate. Not kill, like really.”

Thanks Clint, so much better.

There is a sigh, and someone pushes the blanket up, tucking him in.

“Sleep Tony. We will be here, when you wake up.”

Warmth curls inside him, like the golden touch of the Sun, and Tony complies, knowing, that his team is by his side.


End file.
